Spider Eyes had hardly finished talking when they heard the faint cry of
“Whip-poor-will!”
They had surely heard that cry before.
But what did it mean?
They flew in the direction from whence the sound came.
Then stopped and listened again.
Once more the cry came; and they saw sitting on the lowest branch of a
maple-tree a small brown bird with red and white spots on his body.
“Why, he is talking or calling to some one,” said Pointed Toes. “We know
of that bird, too, but have never heard him call before. He flies high,
and he flies low, so he must surely know all about the beautiful world.”
They then flew up and rested on the branch beside the bird; but he did
not see them, and continued to sing his mournful strain: “Whip-poor-will,
whip-poor-will!”
They grew tired of sitting still, for they were anxious to be on their
way.
Spider Eyes said, “He does not see us. I am going to ask him. Bird, bird!
Oh, kind bird! Little brown bird, covered with red and white spots, tell,
oh tell us, the way to the beautiful world. We have flown east for many
days, and just as we think we are nearing the beautiful world we find it
gone. Tell, oh tell us, if this is the way, the only true way, to the
beautiful world.”
The brown bird ceased his call and listened to Spider Eyes. Then he shook
himself and said:
“You are wrong, all wrong. You are going the wrong way. Ha, ha! who ever
heard of the beautiful world lying in the east! Every one knows it lies
in the west. Why, now, look there! While I speak, see the gates to the
beautiful world opening up.”
They turned and looked, and saw, surely, the gates of the beautiful
world; and they all said again:
“Mr. Bird do—_do_—tell us the way to the beautiful world. It cannot be
far off now. See how large the gates are and how bright the gold shines!
We could not see it if it were so far away.”
“Well,” answered the bird, “I have never been there. I am off for a fly,
however, and I do not mind seeing you started on the right way. I hope
you will reach it safely. When you come back you will find me here,
resting near my nest. Then you can tell me all about it. Perhaps I would
like to go, too.”
Off they flew, with the whip-poor-will as captain.
On one side flew Spider Eyes and Chip Wing; on the other, Pointed Toes
and Dusty Cap.
How quick and fast they went through the wood and over the dales!
“Why,” suddenly exclaimed Spider Eyes, “what is the matter? The golden
gates of the beautiful world do not shine so brightly! Are they closing
up? Come, brothers, hurry! hurry! Let us fly faster.”
“I must leave you now,” said the whip-poor-will. “I am tired, and I must
rest awhile, for I have to sing all night,” and then he alighted on the
branch of a tree.
They thanked him for his kindness, and flew on without stopping.
[Illustration]